


Clipped

by grayorca15, YearwalktheWorld



Series: Skynet: 900 [21]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 20:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18645826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayorca15/pseuds/grayorca15, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearwalktheWorld/pseuds/YearwalktheWorld
Summary: Wings AU. Something’s missing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Start of act two.
> 
> Almost 100,000 words in act one? We earned this.
> 
> #whocares

Noah was a piss-poor liar. But for some infuriating reason he kept practicing at it. Even with a broken wing and a remote override clawing it’s way through his processors, he had tried to convince Gavin the detective’s broken arm was that badly snapped, he would need emergency services to set it.

Fibber. As things turned out, the ‘bad break’ only required a basic splint secured in a sling. It was a bitch to sleep with, so Reed hadn’t. More aggravating was the process of getting it on and off as needed to dress and shower. It wasn’t as though there was a second set of hands at home to help.

Which was how, a scant week after first being saddled with this contraption, Reed found himself staying up well past any recommended bedtime on Tuesday night in late May. Draped lengthwise along the couch, he actually had an audience to listen to him monologue woes to.

Ears up, Colby - showing pity or concern for once in his lofty, independent life - sat curled up in the crook of his owner’s uninjured arm. One paw stayed stretched out, occasionally kneading into the couch cushion without any extended claws.

“I mean… just like, the fuck is he doin’? CyberLife ain't doin’ any shit with him, are they, being gone this long? I mean, he always fuckin’ says how badly put together he is, fuckin’ scrapyard or some shit.” Turning to look down at Colby, Gavin shook his head, as if the cat was really listening to him. Shit, maybe he was. Or maybe he was only venting to uncaring air in general. But somehow, it all needed to be said. “Is this makin’ it better or worse?”

No one at Central seemed to know, either. And those that might have an inkling weren’t interested in saying. Emilia wasn’t privy. Vernon was his atypical brick-wall self. The one instance of trying to ask Connor about it was met with a verbal blockade along the lines of “To be determined.”

TBD.

That was corporate speak for ‘shut up and wait’.

“Fuck, man. All I know is this shit better stop, and soon. I ain't about to be fuckin’ paired up with anyone else, that's for goddamn sure.” Noah wasn't around to hear that, so it was okay to say. Truthfully, he probably  _ should  _ tell the android that, just so he knew if it ever came down to… a situation like this. Shit. 

Things left unsaid always rankled after a while.

In the five months since they were unceremoniously shoved together, Noah had gotten better and worse with regard to the job. He was a cagey, stubborn investigator, good at working a scene and someone who could be counted on in a fight. His biggest problem was putting everyone else’s concerns before his own. It didn’t matter a damn who it was. There was always the case, or the suspect, or the witness, or the evidence, or the trial to consider.

Considering right up into the point he saved his partner from tumbling off a roof to a certain death - a stunt that had earned him this mysterious, week-long hiatus to Belle-Isle. CyberLife could have disassembled him all the way down to a heap of parts on a table, and all that good work done for Central and the city of Detroit at large, it would be the only kind of reward he received for his trouble.

A total, from-ground-up rebuild. Could an android survive that? Could it come back the same way twice, even if it were put back together in the same configuration it began with?

Gavin really didn't wanna fucking think about a future where Noah didn't come back, or he came back different. Fuck, he was almost to the point of desperation of using his family trump card to find out, if that's what it really fucking took. No way could he just keep fucking around, waiting for any sort of news. 

No news definitely wasn't fucking good news, at least in this situation. He needed  _ some  _ amount of confirmation, one way or another. 

Colby, in what might have been a vote of encouragement, rolled over in place before abruptly sitting up to stretch and yawn.

Rumination time over, he hopped across to the coffee table, turned in place, and sat down. Hiking one leg up he began lapping at the fur atop his hip.

Because why not pretty yourself up, in prep for a hefty phone call?

“What, deep talk over? …Asshole furball. Fine, fine, I'll get the fuck up.” Sitting up as best he could, trying not to put any pressure on his arm because ouch _ ,  _ Gavin hesitated once raised up. Fuck, could he really do something like that, call  _ him  _ without any real confirmation that he would know anything? 

Which sounded bad - in short, was Noah worth one fraught five minute phone call?

Yes. But it didn't stop him from hesitating all the same. 

Ultimately, it was for the better. In that indecisive moment, the doorbell buzzed.

Freezing on the couch, Gavin frowned with the surprise. What the fuck? He wasn't exactly expecting any visitors. Even Tina wouldn't come visiting at this hour, especially when she was the one who kept trying to make him sleep. 

Which didn't leave a whole lot of other options as to just who it was. …Scratch that, it left literally fucking zero options, right? No way it was who he thought.

Hesitating as he did, the buzzer rang again - a longer, louder press than before.

Colby stopped licking and actually spared the door a dirty look.

Finally up and towards the door, Gavin didn't bother even looking through the peephole to see who it was. They wanted to see him so badly, they could, one way or another. Whoever the fuck it was at his door, this late at night. 

Swinging the door open with his good arm, he almost glared and swore on the automatic, before realising just who stood in the entrance outside his apartment. 

And what he was missing. 

“What the - Noah?” Gavin said it without thinking. Of fucking course it was Noah, showing up at his apartment a week after complete radio silence. “What are you - what?” 

One hand still raised as if to press the buzzer a third time, the android snatched his arm back as if the very air had scalded him. His expression shifted to something nervous and beseeching, all in one wide-eyed look, before he blinked and seemingly forced it back to a default neutral. His LED flashed yellow as if alarmed of its own accord before darkening to blue. “Hello, Detective.”

Weirder than the conspicuous lack of wings, usually held at half-mast behind his wide shoulders, was the changed attire. The two-toned black-and-white jacket had been replaced by a seemingly-inverted version of itself. The unbranded RK900 looked more like a clergyman in so many layers of ebony, besides a few sparse white accents at the collar and cuffs.

But then again, priests didn’t boast blue armbands and law-mandated triangular iconography.

“Uh… hi. Fuck, man, are you - shit.” Cutting himself off from asking anything too impulsive, Gavin braced the door against his back, awkwardly waving Noah inside with his good arm. “Get inside. Let's talk.” 

Any sappy reunion could be put on hold indefinitely at the moment, especially with the way Noah was looking and acting. If he didn't wanna answer any questions, fine. But at least he could come inside for the night - no way Gavin was about to let him fucking leave, after just barely getting him back. 

There was a moment of uncertainty all the same. Noah glanced at the floor as if he expected to step through, only to find himself standing atop a trapdoor.

But he never could refuse a direct order for long.

“Yes. Thank you.” Mechanically as he sounded, he took the few steps forward, far enough away to give room for the door to be shut behind him. Eyes panning like the lens of a camera, he looked around in one smooth motion before lowering them.

Okay, that was off in itself. Since when was he this reserved?

It wasn't any sort of fucking good. After the door slammed shut behind them, Gavin only gave a moment of hesitation, to see if the android would snap out of it himself or not. When it became clear he wouldn't, it was time for some fucking action. 

Stepping closer, Gavin didn't ask for permission, or give any indication as to what he was going to do, before grabbing Noah and hooking his good arm over his shoulder, his other splinted arm almost pressed up between them. 

They deserved at least one good fucking hug after all the shit they had been through, right?

“Fuckin’ missed you, N. Scared the shit out of me, huh?” It was weird to not have the android’s wings in the way of the long-postponed embrace, but it was better not to think of it right now.

There was no sudden snap back to ‘life’. Noah did just the reverse, freezing as if the strange, unfamiliar tactile input effectively threw his concentration off. His arms stayed hanging at his sides, a singular twitch of his fingers the only startled movement he seemed capable of.

A second later, the surprise passed, and the autopilot mode seemed to disable itself. With a soft, stifled whine the android’s expression and posture crumbled, overcoming whatever numb facade he had been sent back out into the world under. Latching on with both arms, he hid his face in the crook of his partner’s neck.

By the fraught way he held on, shaking as if something inside had come loose and was now knocking around, the fear of separation, for good, was mutual.

“Aw, fuck, Noah. It's gonna - you're safe here, okay? Let's fuckin’... go to the couch, all right?” Reaching for anything to try and calm the android down, Gavin didn't let go yet, not when he was still so distraught. Never had he ever fucking grabbed him, or really whined the way he was. It sounded like a dog trapped behind a closed door, scratching and pawing to get through.

Shakily, he took the suggestion, letting go just as suddenly as he latched on. Face turned down, rotated far enough away to hide his distress, what little wasn’t betrayed by the LED, he stepped around the armrest to sit, arms wrapped around himself.

Watching with unusual attentiveness, pupils blown out, Colby sidled over to perch on the table’s edge.

“Okay, okay, uh… listen, man. We don't have to really talk about it, but what - what happened?” Sitting down next to him, Gavin didn't dare reach out and try to touch him, not yet at least. 

“What does it look like?” Strained as it sounded, like he wanted very much to not speak and yet dying to explain at the same time, Noah refused to look at him. Hands gripping his own elbows, tightly enough the knuckles were showing white beneath the skin, he didn’t move as Colby reached out with a paw, a few inches short of reaching across to get a foothold on one knee.

“Okay, okay, fine. We don't have to talk about it. Just… your wings.” That was as much as he could see without prying any deeper into it. Shrugging, Gavin gave up that line of questioning. “Just - just fuckin’ glad you're back.” 

That is, he would have successfully gave it up, if Noah didn’t drag it right back to center stage.

“Sure, it’s  _ only _ my wings,” he choked, bitterly, voice cracking enough to dip into static before recomposing itself. “If  _ only _ that was all it is.”

“Aw, shit, I don't - sorry. Didn't mean it like that. Um… I mean, I dunno, man. Why did they… take them?” Wincing as he asked, Gavin knew this was some dangerous fucking territory to march into. The hell could he say, that would ever make this better?

Nothing. Nothing short of returning what had been taken  _ could  _ make this better. 

Looking like he was on the verge of firing another sardonic question back, Noah scoffed and shook his head. “They warned me. They said, one more crash or break, and I would lose them.”

At least that much was simple. Long story short: CyberLife made good on its threat.

“Aw, fuck… I'm sorry, N.” Because in some way, this was partially his fault, being the one to slip and fall. If he hadn't, Noah wouldn't have had to catch him and crash… it wasn't worth thinking about past that. Now was the time to focus on Noah instead, the way this was turning out. “That fuckin’ - sucks. Man, I don't got a fuckin’ clue what kinda assholes are there, but that - that's awful. You were  _ saving  _ me.” 

If those were his options at the time - let his partner die versus lose his wings - small wonder why a minor conniption fit had set in soon after.

Noah didn’t need to put it to words. His expression creased again, LED flaring red, breaths tight and hitching as if he were holding back tears. “If only that - was all they did.”

Balancing on the table’s edge, Colby made a precise hop over onto the cushion space between them. Turning around, he settled in to knead and paw at the android’s pantleg. Already a loose coat of white hairs had managed to stick to the black fabric.

“What - what the fuck did they do to you, N?” 

Nothing good, that much was obvious. But it couldn’t take a min entire week to lop off an android’s wings, or tweak their endoskeleton the permanently-solid setting. Like the RK900 was saying, if that was the extent of what happened, he wouldn’t be hovering on the cusp of a simulated breakdown.

It must be a convincing simulation, to instantly draw so much of Colby’s attention as it had.

“Things - I’m not at liberty to talk about.” Grasping for something like an explanation, Noah shook his head again, driving the heel of one hand into his temple as if feigning (or actually experiencing) a migraine. His tone wavered again, between an indifferent drawl and that strained cough. “Administrative privileges - I can’t recount it, verbally, to unauthorized - personnel.”

Oh, lovely - they had sent him back out with a total recall, with new failsafes that denied him from blabbing too much. While at the same time, they left in enough leash for him to admit to their misdeeds, knowing there would be fuck-all of any people out there who would care.

Gavin Reed being the sole exception, that is.

“Agh, okay, okay. Fuck, I can… I can guess just what the fuck type of shit they would do.” Shifting a bit closer, Gavin struggled to come up with something new to say, anything that could ease the mood, make Noah feel a bit better. “Uhmm… least Colby is also happy to see you.” 

Said cat fussed even more at the mention of his name, hooking his claws into the denim, arching up to nose against Noah’s raised elbow.

Pouring through too many processes to name, the android eventually seemed to shove back his anxiety, and get a new grip on composure. The short, tense breaths turned slower and deeper, his stress levels plateauing for the moment.

Gradually, he stopped massaging his temple, wet eyes tentatively reopening, to spare Colby a scratch behind the ears.

“I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. I only - I’m not expected to report to Central until seven AM tomorrow.”

“Don't fuckin’ apologize. I'm glad you came now, okay? It's all good.” Biting his lip, Gavin almost forced himself not to offer, because of the reaction he thought he would get. But fuck, if he didn't, who knew where the android would go once his shift was over? CyberLife might just recall him, for good, when no one was watching. “And you can… fuckin’ come back, too, you know. Like, when we get off of work. And stay.” 

“Stay?” Just as expected, Noah’s expression turned bewildered and slightly aghast all over again. His hand froze, even as Colby nipped and rubbed at his fingers for more attention. “But - I’m supposed to remain at the station.”

“Yeah, fuck that, dude. What are they gonna do - and who the hell is gonna tattle on you? If Hank can take his strays home, you can stay here.” It wasn't fair, if there was any double standard there. If the other androids were allowed to spend the night at a house occasionally, Noah could stay with him. “You don't have to if you don't want to.” 

By the way his expression screwed up even tighter, a classic sign of conflicting impulses and orders if ever there was one, the RK900 didn’t yet have a concrete decision either way. Almost abruptly, he pushed Colby away, ignoring the soft, offended meow, refolding his arms to hunker in on himself.

Christ, if there was some way to satisfy both wants at once, why wasn’t it occurring to either of them?

Even this guy, one of the most intricate humanoid supercomputers ever made, didn’t seem to know. He was too preoccupied by deadlock stress to process it clearly.

“Hey. Don't fuckin’ think about it, okay? Who gives a shit right now, whatever you choose is fine.” It was obviously not a good idea to thrust such an upheaving concept as a ‘roommate situation’ onto Noah right now. His proverbial nerves were still a touch too raw. They could talk about it more when he was feeling a bit calmer. 

Instead, Gavin leaned closer again, hooking his good arm around the android’s bowed neck again for a one-armed hug, half-resting his head on Noah's shoulder as he did so. Teasingly, he lifted his broken arm, still in its splint.

“Huh, guess I didn't get it too bad, then? Fuck, who knows. I've got a thick skull, maybe it woulda just rattled my brain a bit to take a spill.”

The ‘older’, more analytical Noah might have gone along with the joke, played it off as a worthwhile reason to find himself a new partner. It wasn’t as if they had always worked together so effectively. Those first few months had been a lot of snapped words, headslaps and collar-grabs, on both fronts.

Aged as he was by now, tempered by weeks of bickering now distorted by whatever blender CyberLife had run him through, this Noah didn’t so much as crack a smirk at the idea. Given another chance at it, he leaned into the hug and grabbed onto his partner’s shoulder with one hand, turning his face to rest his cheek against the back of Gavin’s head.

Inexperienced as they both were in the hugging behavior, the android’s intuitiveness as to where to hide was uncanny.

But it didn’t mask the feeling of something wet soaking into Gavin’s hair.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn’t matter what flowery reasoning CyberLife came up with to explain away the appeal of sticking wings on androids. At the end of the day, they hadn’t needed to (just like the Detroit Zoo didn’t need two blue whale androids). But along with the cyan identifiers, sure, it was one big neon sign differentiating human from android.

Sitting on the couch now, idly stroking Colby, to the cat’s purring contentment, Noah looked so not-imposing without his sharp, well-maintained beauties. His gaze remained angled down, eyes half hooded, LED cycling between everyday blue and intermittent yellow. Cutting that image, he might as well rename himself a second time.

Like some eighth or ninth dwarf who was cut from the story of Snow White - Sully.

Because Gavin couldn’t remember his partner ever looking more sullen than he did now. 

Awkwardly standing over to one side of the couch, Gavin had his arms crossed as best as he could, arm in the splint more so just laying flat against his chest. What was he even supposed to say? 

“Uh… how're you feelin’, N?” 

Sprawled beside his leg, Colby ceased gnawing and clawing at the hand attempting to scratch under his chin.

Going still, Noah raised an eyebrow at the bluntly-obvious question. But to his credit he tried to answer: “I feel how I look, Detective. Isn’t it evident enough?”

That was some kind of reassuring: even in the grips of some kind of depressed mood, he wasn’t without his sarcasm.

And true, why would he feel the need to project any other emotion, here?

“Yeah, yeah, I guess so. Was just wonderin’, man.” If he were anyone else, Gavin might have felt frayed enough to be angry with any sarcasm - but how could he, after what was going on with Noah? A week’s separation certainly hadn’t lessened his concern. “Anythin’ you wanna talk about, or…?” 

“Plenty. I just don’t - think this is the best time. I didn’t realize how depleted my energy levels were until - now.” Pausing as Colby gave another impatient mewl and batted at his hand again, Noah closed his eyes, keeping them shut a few seconds longer than usual. His LED dimmed. Then, against any expectation to doze off, he reopened them. “CyberLife rushed my - redeployment, it seems.”

“Ah, missed your scheduled nap, huh?” Giving a smirk at the image of a pouting android who missed their nap, like some child, Gavin went for the nearby coat closet. Perhaps Noah wasn't that far off from it, right now. A blanket was in order, regardless as to whether he actually wanted to lay down. “Okay, sounds like it's bedtime. Long as you won't get sick, or somethin’.”

The android’s eyes blinked shut for another prolonged beat. Without opening them, he gave a little sigh to that effect. “‘Or something’ sounds more probable at the moment.”

“Hm. Long as that's all I'll be fucking dealing with.” Leaning into the closet, Gavin struggled to one handedly pull a thick linen blanket down from it, before walking back over. “Here we go, you birdbrained toddler. Lay down, then, huh?” 

For a second, it almost felt like ‘old times’ again. His command was met by one sideways glance before Noah folded one hand into a spade shape, gently but firmly pushing Colby aside. Meowing his offense, the surly shorthair flopped over, then leapt down from the couch.

“Thank you, Detective.” The other hand, he held out, palm open. “Here. I’ll arrange it to my liking, if you don’t mind.” 

“Yeah?” Scoffing again, Gavin instead shook it out once, before quickly bringing it up and over the android’s head in a spur-of-the-moment type of prank. Any way to lighten the mood for him, right? This was all a little too dour. “Pfft. There. Now you look like some fuckin’ old ghost costume, dude.”  

Minus the eye holes.

For a moment, there was no reaction. Just visible through the old woolly material, the bright LED went full-on yellow before diluting back to a peaceful blue. Rather than fuss, turn one way or another to somehow free himself from this new, blinded state, Noah only turned his head, canting it sideways in the process.

Just like a snoozing bird, resting its chin atop its own shoulder.

“Aw. You, uh… Noah?” Wandering over, Gavin let out a snort of laughter when he realized what had happened, that he really was dead asleep. Shit, was that all it took? A blanket over his head? “Ah. Guess that's good.” 

Androids in stasis weren’t meant to snore.

But he could almost imagine the line of Zs drifting off into nothingness from atop the curve of the blanket.

——-

Colby resumed kneading and clawing for affection not long after. Whatever peace Noah had found under the cover, their resident feline didn’t seem wont to ruin it.

Instead, he made a new enemy out of one of his owner’s slippers. 

“Hey! Idiot - cat! Don't get at my toes.” Grumbling at him, Gavin picked Colby up, plunking him down onto his lap after a moment of him squirming around in his grip. “You gonna play good?” 

Looking back at him for a moment, the cat gracefully half-slunk off of him, stretching down off his legs, but keeping his own in Gavin's lap, looking back at him once before putting his head down. 

“Fucker…” Giving in despite the fight, he just leaned back with a sigh, hand drifting up and down his fur to keep Colby from leaving him for something better, little shit. Looking over at the android, still with the blanket draped over him, he couldn't help but wince. 

“Shit, man. The fuck we gonna do with you? Like this?”

Wingless, yes, but hopefully whatever CyberLife had done hadn’t scrambled Noah’s logic or processing methods for good. A little rest, and he would be back to something like himself by tomorrow morning.

Hopefully.

Colby didn’t seem disappointed by the lack of sacrificial feathers. If anything, he had seemed abnormally more endeared to their adopted houseguest. Tailtip flicking, purring loudly enough to rattle a window, the old tom wasn’t finished begging for favor.

Stretching out to claw at the sling, he sunk his nails in and tugged.

“Fuckin’ - don't!” Scolding him again, Gavin still kept himself gentle as he tried to detangle Colby from it. Wouldn't it be his luck - have his arm pulled some wrong way, get it rebroken by his cat? What a topper to this week of monotonous misery. “We don't need that shit on our plates. Not right now, all right?” 

With a muffled  _ grrr _ of offense, Colby swatted at the fingers attempting to pry at him. Throwing the fight just as quickly, he turned over in place, all four paws in the air.

_ I give. _

“Ugh. Good boy.” Placing his good hand on Colby's stomach, Gavin gave him a couple pats. What was this with acting all good? Somehow the little brat seemed to be on his best behavior whenever Noah was over, asleep or not. “Guess you'll make his life a little easier, if he decides to stay. Shit, where will he even go if he doesn't?” 

To this the cat had no better answer than what was ominously obvious: back to Belle-Isle. If the DPD didn’t have use for him it wasn’t as though CyberLife would reassign one of their RK line to a strictly-domestic role. They had sunk too much time and money into Noah to simply cut him loose.

So, in a way, was this good news in disguise - even wingless, could they have fixed everything else wrong with his build in the process?

However slim, there was always that chance.

Not that Noah would ever like to hear him say something like that. He wasn't on the level of some certain couriers when it came to wing craze, but any android, just getting that taken away - wouldn't it devastate anyone? 

Like taking away any crucial body part, and knowing you could have it back, but someone won't let you. Just thinking about it made Gavin let out a sharp hiss, hugging his own splint closer to his body. 

That wasn't fucking fair. How could they do this to him? Didn't they know who Noah was? 

Paws up, Colby blinked and stretched one foreleg out, claws splayed and looking to hook into something.

_ Now, now. Don’t mope too much. He’s still here, right? _

Shit. Dumb as it was, to think whatever logic could somehow be going through a cat's head was correct - it was true. How could he even get caught in his own head when Noah was right here next to him? 

“Ugh. Guess you're right. No use bein’... like this, if I can do shit about it.” 

If he was anything like Reed remembered, Noah wouldn’t stand for idleness very long. Wings or no wings, worn out or not, the sooner he could get back to work, put his remaining features to good use, the better off both of them would be.

For the moment, resembling a dust-sheet-covered piece of furniture simply seemed more appealing to him.

Colby, never one to stomach sentiment for very long, rolled back over, slinking between them to curl up on the hem of the blanket, as if anchoring it in place.

“Eh, keep that down, then. Don't want him somehow fuckin’ - shakin’ it off and waking up in some kinda panic.” Rolling his eyes at the thought of waking up to Noah being trapped under the blanket by Colby's weight, Gavin stood up from his seat on the couch to check the time. 

Way too late, no matter what it was. Didn't he have a shift at the station, bright and early tomorrow? Gavin would complain, if he wasn't already way too fucking nervous about how it would go with Noah back as well. Getting to sleep at all, knowing his new, pending roommate could literally snap back online any second, it didn’t do wonders for his confidence.

But if Colby thought they were well off enough to get cozy, may as well give it a shot.

What else did they have to lose, a few winks?

…Fuck. Maybe he would just go flop on the bed, shut his eyes, at least, doze off a bit, wait and see if he could hear any changes in Noah, or something like that. If he fell asleep, the newness of the noises of another person were bound to wake him up, right? 

And if it didn't - well. He could cross that fuckin’ bridge when it came time.

Like all the others.

——-

The alarm on his phone went off. Gavin half expected to wake up facing an empty couch. Instead, the once-upright blanket, covering a man-shaped machine, had been rearranged. Buried in the wound-up folds of fabric, Noah had picked a new position by morning.

Colby, by the way he had snuggled in against him, seemed to endorse it.

Curled up in a fetal-like huddle, pressed into the corner of the couch, it didn’t immediately look like the most pleasant posture ever. Hair tousled and sticking out in utter disarray, compared to its usual slicked-back state, the android’s face was buried in the folds, up to his closed eyes.

Best of all, his LED was a consistent, blinking blue.

Shit. At least he seemed comfortable, even if the position didn't look like it (birds somehow found resting all twisted around to be cozy). And Noah's bed hair was some of the unintentionally-cutest shit the android had pulled yet - just looking at it made Gavin smile a bit.

He would have been content to leave the sight alone, had his guest not woken of their own accord a few seconds later. And there was no gradual crawl up into wakefulness. The blinking light froze, and Noah’s eyes opened to match it. Slowly panning one way, then back, he let them drop shut, a muffled sigh arising from under the blanket.

“It’s six AM already?”

Before sunup, what did he expect?

“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty. Yeah, we got work soon.” Crossing his arm at the sight, Gavin confirmed just what time it was. Really, it wouldn't have been bad if Noah kept sleeping - it wasn't like it would take them an hour to get to the station. 

For an even longer beat, Noah didn’t move. He seemed to idle, letting all of his systems catch up to where they should be, before reopening his eyes and painstakingly sit up. There was no show of stretching or yawning. Colby gave a fussy meow at being unceremoniously pushed aside, but didn’t budge from his place on the cushion.

Feigning or actually feeling a little underspeed, Noah rubbed at his temple as if fending off a newborn headache. “Such as it… is.”

That followed. He had even slept fully-clothed, in no frame of mind to think about asking to borrow any new garments.

That might (definitely) have to change.

“Hey, man, I can't claim I was doin’ any quality, top notch work this past week, but I think I won't get punished too fuckin’ hard for it. Maybe we'll get some actual cases thrown our way.” Raising an eyebrow at him, Gavin shrugged. “Ain't that just what you like, to throw yourself into it?” 

For the most part, it was a given. Between one of them chomping at the bit and the other dragging their feet, the happy medium between meant most cases they caught were solved in a timely, efficient manner. And the past week had been something of a gimme: no bodies, just the usual variety assaults and narcotics busts.

The old Noah would be disappointed to hear that, if anything.

This one didn’t have an immediate reaction. Frowning, he kneaded at his brow one last time before letting his hand drop into his lap. “My like or dislike isn’t a factor. I’m expected to do a job, I’ll be there.”

Wonderful - the sass was now tempered with begrudging compliance.

It didn’t change the fact his sorry, pitiful, lost-puppy self had autopiloted to Warrendale instead of the 7th. It knew for itself which was the more compassionate choice.

“Ugh. Nah, nope, I don't like that. I woulda thought you know by now I actually fuckin’ like knowing what you like or dislike. Even better if you don't wanna do work - gives me a chance to screw off.” 

No, Gavin wouldn't actually be screwing off at work. But if it got a reaction out of Noah, it was worth it - there was no way the android would ever let him have a clear chance. His work ethic presets couldn’t be that badly distorted.

Leveling a short-lived glare at him, Noah broke it only to throw the blanket off, laying it across the couch’s armrest in the process. Still listing to one side, he folded his arms and settled back, gaze averted.

His black hair still hung in front of his eyes, bangs all out of alignment. “Whenever you’re ready, then, Detective. I’ll sort myself out while you shower.” Rethinking the suggestion, his brow knit. “Or did you require coffee first?”

“That a fuckin’ question? I always wanna indulge a bad habit.” 

Used to their banter as he was, Noah usually knew better than to try and lecture to the contrary. The first few hundred times he tried and failed to convince his partner of this had taught him as much.

On that instance, Noah didn’t bother cracking a smile, or even blink at the response. Pupils recentering, he lapsed into pensive silence for another moment.

“...Was there anything else you wished to discuss, before that?”

“Uh… I guess not. I mean, yeah, actually. Hell has gotten into you?” Maybe it was a bit too sudden, for him to ask a sort of rude question, but Gavin wanted to know. Why was Noah acting like this? If it was him being sullen, it was one thing, not like he didn’t have cause. If it was something else, he wanted to know. “Huh? They drain your personality? I ain't fuckin’ joking. I wanna know.” 

If it wasn’t that, it was as if they had switched this sports car’s gas from premium fuel to regular unleaded. And the clunks in his behavior were all the more apparent for it.

Owing his host some kind of passable explanation, Noah frowned, but not out of scorn. It was the sadder kind of frown from last night.

The clinical, detached voice didn’t compliment it: “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to explain it sooner. That’s - in part - the reason for my extended absence, Detective. Some adjustments were deigned necessary.”

“Adjustments? The hell does that mean? I thought the whole point of androids was like - besides some obvious shit, you couldn't tell.” Of course, humans would always know androids from themselves if they wore the clothing, sported wings, and had the LEDs. But through personality alone, it was supposed to be impossible to tell the difference. The integration was meant to be seamless.

Right now Noah looked as seamless as a very-obvious metal-toothed zipper.

“Yes, in most cases. But in mine…” Trailing off, frown fading away, Noah shook his head. Instantly, his hand went back to his brow. “My faults are more prominent. They always have been.”

“What fuckin’ faults? Your fuckin’ personality? They’re not the same thing.” Almost hissing more out, Gavin stopped himself before he could go too far. Noah hadn't even been back for a day - it definitely wasn't the time to get all in his face and angry about CyberLife just yet. “Man, I dunno what you're talkin’ about. You didn't have… faults that needed to be fixed.” 

Poetic as he was being, assuming CyberLife regraded faults and personality routines as the same issue, Noah didn’t flatter him with so much as an irate glance. His frown reappeared, twice as curved as before. “Nevertheless, they have. I’m not - the same version of myself you last saw. I don’t intend for it to adversely affect our - dynamic. But you said you wanted to know.”

And that was simpleton talk for ‘don’t make me go into details, especially the kind you wouldn’t understand’.

(Yes, maybe that was a pretty big inference to assume, but it felt right.)

“Fine. I guess I did.” What else should Gavin even say, push any harder and freak Noah out some more? That wouldn't provide anything helpful for either of them. The best thing he could do would be shut his mouth and actually start getting ready to go to work. 

Staring at him, almost beseechingly, Noah gave a slow blink and looked away. The turn revealed a bit too much of a glimmer around his eyelids than was typically present.

With the same measured steadiness, he gave a weak scoff. “I… I’m still me. For better or worse. Whether or not you accept it, I understand your position, Detective.”

Always. Always with the overdramatic conclusions.

“Oh, shut up, why the fuck wouldn't I accept it? I'm just bein’ fucking… worried for you.” Grumbling it out, Gavin trailed closer, leaning down a bit to be more eyelevel with Noah. “Dumbass. Knock off the weepy mode. You don’t even fucking think about it.” 

Without giving him a moment to process, much less respond, his good hand went up, ruffling at the still bedraggled hair hanging in front of the android's face. “And do somethin’ about this shit, it's too fuckin’ cute.”  

Blinking his welling eyes, saline tears not quite spilling over, Noah’s fragile expression recomposed itself into mild bewilderment.

In a word:  _ Really? _

Sure.

But he would be really off his processes to expect to get a confirmation out of Gavin Reed.


End file.
